


Something Blue

by ughfitz (wokemeup)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, General au, Illness AU, Letters, Major Illness, Not your typical wedding AU, messages, wedding au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:44:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5630323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wokemeup/pseuds/ughfitz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma shouldn’t be doing this. It was mean, horrible, and downright selfish. Six months ago she would have never even considered doing something like this, never thought she would even be in this situation. But then again, six months ago, Jemma didn’t know that her lifespan had been whittled down to just a few months. Jemma Simmons, genius, scientist, and utter pragmatist, was irrationally, unreservedly, and 100% in love with her best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Blue

Jemma shouldn’t be doing this. It was mean, horrible, and downright selfish. She was the kind one of the group, the level-headed, bright, and undeniably sweet one. Six months ago she would have never even considered doing something like this, never thought she would even be in this situation. But then again, six months ago, Jemma didn’t know that her lifespan had been whittled down to just a few months.

 

Jemma tried to convince herself that it was the bad combination of her medication mucking up her actions, the stress of having to help put together the big event, and the absolute utter chaos of doing all of this _while_ managing to hide two of her biggest secrets; but Jemma knew better. Jemma had known since the very first time she laid eyes on his curly mop of hair and those bright, piercing blue eyes.

\---

 

 _Jemma was late. Jemma was_ never _late. Somehow she had managed to turn off her three separate alarms and had thus woken up precisely thirty minutes after she had intended on leaving. In her rush to get to class on time, she had spilt her tea on a perfectly nice white blouse and had tripped in front of a very large crowd of onlookers, her ego hurting more than the dull ache making its presence known in her knee._

 

_She rushed into the classroom, the large wooden door whacking open with a loud crack, and a single pair of bright blue eyes met her own wide and worried brown ones. Blinking once, Jemma twisted her wrist over to find that she indeed was late to class; However, upon verification, Jemma looked around and noticed that all the seats were empty, save for one. Her attention was quickly drawn when a small cough cut through the otherwise silent room. Snapping her head up at the sound, Jemma found herself once again transfixed by startling blue eyes._

 

_A blush bloomed from the base of her neck to the tips of her ears as Jemma tore her gaze away from the boy in front of her and pulled out her, now unfortunately, stained syllabus. As noted, class began promptly at 8 AM and, yet, here she was in an almost desolate classroom._

 

_“Seems we’re the only ones who know how to stick to a schedule?” Came a very Scottish and slightly questioning voice._

 

_“Ehm… Yeah. I mean...” Jemma stuttered out. “I suppose so.” Great, not only was Jemma late, her shirt stained, knee bleeding, hair likely a mess, but she was also mumbling like an utter buffoon. He must think she was completely mad!_

 

_The boy smiled slightly, his cheeks stained a slight hue of pink. “Fitz,” he stated._

 

_Was he speaking a different language that Jemma had not yet heard of? “Pardon?”_

 

_“Leo Fitz. Well, technically Leopold Fitz, but only my mum calls me that. And, I still don’t really like Leo, so Fitz. So, yeah, uh just Fitz” he rambled out in one long Scottish mess._

 

_Leo, Jemma thought, rolling the name around in her brain. She liked it. It suited those crystalline eyes and the soft curls. Yes, Leo was the perfect name for the boy._

 

_“Jemma. Jemma Simmons. You go by your last name?” she flustered out questioningly, “I mean, not that there is anything wrong with that” she rushed out, cheeks burning bright._

 

 _“Yeah. It’s just an odd thing about me, I guess,” he said with a slight shrug of the shoulders. Jemma smiled, exhaled a shaky breath and once again looked around the vacant room. “Ehm, this_ is _Macroepidemiology with Professor Weaver, correct?” Once again fiddling with her schedule, the nerves that had clouded her this morning came back with full force._

 

 _“As far as I know, yes. I haven’t heard anything about the class being canceled, and, from you being here, I gather that you haven’t either?” he questioned, scrunching up his face in a confused manner. A_ cute _and confused manner, mused Jemma. Shaking her head slightly, Jemma whipped out her computer and clicked open her meticulously cleared email._

 

_Sitting right up at the top in bold black letters sat an unopened email reading ‘Important Announcement for BE.102.’ Oh, she thought, quickly opening the urgent email._

 

Class,

 

Due to the limited number of students interested in this course, the department has decided to drop the class. For those of you still wanting to take this course, I have volunteered to hold a weekly group to go over things we would have discussed in this class. I must forewarn you, however, no credit will be given for participating, and I fully expect there to still be work for you all to complete. If you should be interested in participating in this distinct group, please visit my office as soon as possible, and we will go over the appropriate actions.

 

Regards,

 

Dr. Anne Weaver

 

_Jemma stared at her screen, disappointment filling her stomach. Jemma loved class and she especially loved bouncing ideas off of other students. Without a class, and only left with a daft group, how was she supposed to challenge herself and expand her ever-growing curiosity? How was she supposed to graduate early if one of her classes was canceled?_

 

_“S’pose I should have checked my email before waking up so early and coming to class,” murmured a dejected Fitz._

 

 _“Oh, no!” was all Jemma could whisper, frantic and nervous tears beginning to prick at her eyes. Nothing was going right today. Suddenly, the weight of the morning and the disappointment of the canceled course pressed down on her, and before she could stop them, erratic and utterly irrational tears shuddered throughout her body. A tentative hand made its way onto her shoulder, rubbing it in a comforting manner._  
  
“He-hey, now. Don’t worry. I’m sure you can always make it up next semester. And, look on the bright side, it’s one less load of homework we have to worry about!” Fitz sweetly attempted.   
  
“But I love  _homework!” Jemma wailed, startling poor Fitz._  
  
“Oh,” was all he could manage, a small smile forming on his lips. He couldn’t help himself, but suddenly he was laughing. A nice, hearty, and warm laugh erupting deep from within him.   
  
At first, Jemma stiffened, her wounds still fresh. But once her brain caught up with the absolute silliness of the situation, she couldn’t help but join in. The two of them sat there for what seemed like an eternity, laughing until their bellies ached and tears streamed down both of their faces. Finally, the two of them broke apart only slightly from one another, smiles adorning their close faces. Jemma, lips trembling, looked up into Fitz’s bright blue eyes and smiled.

 

_“Are you going to join the group?” she asked hopefully. She had known that she would, of course, but it was a nice thought that she might have a familiar face with her._

 

_Fitz, after reading the email, had immediately crossed off the idea of joining the group. But, when he stared into her caramel, red-rimmed eyes, he knew he would do anything to see them again._

 

_“Yes,” he breathed out. Jemma, for her part, broke out into what Fitz would later dub the ‘Sunshine Smile,’ a smile that filled her entire face and made her eyes sparkle with sheer joy._

 

_As luck would have it, Jemma and Fitz were the only two to sign up for the special group. Despite the fact that Fitz despised the added and unnecessary work and Jemma thrived on it, they both came to realize that a silly class being canceled had easily been the best thing to happen to them. The two quickly became best friends, lab partners, and eventually roommates. They were inseparable, and neither seemed to mind the FitzSimmons that everyone seemed to call them._

 

 _That is, until one day Fitz insisted that people call him Leo and, maybe it_ was _better if the two of them finally got those separate apartments they had once offhandedly mentioned. Jemma, hopeful to lessen the times she upset her best friend, simply agreed and plastered on a smile, one that she had dubbed the “Smile, Sunshine” smile. The two, while still best friends, very slowly morphed out of the whole FitzSimmons thing and eventually circled right back round to the original Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz. Still, despite the changes in their close relationship, Jemma never seemed to get over the shock of those blue eyes and the warm flutter that would erupt in her stomach every time she looked into them._

 

Jemma Simmons, genius, scientist, and utter pragmatist, was irrationally, unreservedly, and 100% in love with her best friend.

 

\---

At first, Jemma only felt a small fluttering sensation in her heart, but nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to concern her until one day she was walking around her kitchen and her body betrayed her, her legs buckling under her as she collapsed into a heap of pain on the floor. When she awoke some time later, she wanted to dismiss it once again, but she knew. She had hoped that his would never happen to her, but she always knew it was a possibility.

 

Jemma had done her research, of course, already knowing exactly what the problem would be, her father having passed away from the very condition when she was a teenager. She was ready to ask the doctor her carefully scripted questions, prepared as always. What she hadn’t prepared for, however, was the sudden deadline she was given.

 

Six months. Six months to live the rest of her life before she would likely succumb to the illness invading her body. She sat on the table, completely numb, suddenly wishing she had followed the doctor’s suggestions of bringing someone with her.

 

Fitz. Fitz should be here with her, she thought. He would know what to do. They always finished each other’s sentences, so he would surely know what questions to ask, how to move forward. He was a doctor as well; despite his specialty being in engineering, he would be able to handle this far better than Jemma was. But he wasn’t here, he was with _her_.

 

[Caillic](http://www.sheknows.com/baby-names/name/caillic). Cailie, for short, who was the smart, beautiful, and lovely girl they had met a year and a half ago and was now her best friend’s girlfriend. Jemma, snapping back to reality, thanked the doctor and quietly walked out the doors, her mind buzzing with a loud silence. She was surprised that she hadn’t shed a tear, but, she suspected, it was due to the shock. Pulling out her phone, Jemma quickly dialed Fitz, the dull ringing echoing on and on. Finally, just when she thought it would go to message, she heard the line pick up and Fitz’s unmistakable voice called out to her.

 

“Jemma!” he practically sang. “So glad you rang. I have a question I need to run by you.” Despite the day’s news still looming over her, Jemma couldn’t help the happiness that spread throughout her whenever Fitz was happy.

 

“Okay, go on,” she hesitantly replied.

 

“So, you know that ring my gran had, you know, the gold one with little diamonds around it?” he gushed out.

 

As Jemma’s heart skipped a beat, she found herself nodding in agreement. “Sure,” she said, “the one you vowed to give to the girl who would one day steal your heart?” She remembers the day, near the end of their time with Dr. Weaver, when Fitz had shown her the ring, rushing to tell her the story of how he promised his recently passed gran that he would one day give it to the girl who stole his heart. It really was quite a beautiful ring, Jemma sighed wistfully.

 

“Yeah,” he chuckled “that one.” She couldn’t help but smile, perhaps her day was finally starting to get better.  “I’m going to ask Cailie to marry me!” he burst out.

 

“Oh,” was all Jemma could politely reply with. Her day, unfortunately, was not going to get better. However, as soon as the word slipped past her lips, she mentally chastised herself for her poor reaction. Her best friend in the entire world had found happiness that would hopefully last his lifetime, and all she could muster was a simple _oh_? Plastering on her Smile, Sunshine, she exuberantly mustered a “that’s wonderful Fitz! Oh, she’ll just make the best bride!” It stung, worse than when the doctor had delivered the terrible news.

 

For just the slightest pause, the line remained quiet before the voice she had grown so accustomed to responded with a “she will, won’t she?” Jemma squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to fall, if only to release the tension she felt growing behind them. “Hey,” he suddenly spoke, “what is it you were calling me for? Don’t s’pose it was just to hear my sweet voice, eh?” If only he knew.

 

Jemma laughed, a bitter tone barely detectable. “Never mind, it’s really not as important as your news” she quickly replied.

 

“Jemma,” he chastised slightly. He could always tell when something was wrong. “Tell me what has you so upset.” She considered telling him, truly she did, but remembering his happy news, she couldn’t bare to devastate him. She would tell him later.   
  
  


_“_ Ugh, Fitz! Truly, it’s nothing that can’t wait” she cried out. “I just—I just realized that, ehm, I need to get going. So, ehm, I’ll just call you later. Let me know how everything goes with Cailie” she rushed out, quickly hanging up.

 

Finally reaching her car, Jemma yanked open the door, more forceful than necessary, quickly got in and proceeded to yell at the top of her lungs. She yelled for the terrible weight that had settled in her heart, she yelled for the sinking feeling that wouldn’t leave her stomach, and she yelled at the cosmos for cursing her with such a horrible fate. Not once, however, did Jemma shed a tear.

 

\---

Four months later and Jemma had yet to drop a tear of sorrow. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, of course she did, but her body simply wouldn’t allow it. Despite it being _his_ wedding, Fitz was devoting every moment of his time to his ‘special project’, something he had begun only a year after his and Jemma’s first meeting. He never gave her any clues as to what he had been working on for all these years, but would occasionally ask her vague biological questions late at night when she knew he was working on it. This project, however, left Jemma to take up his slack, and so, with the constant stress of helping to plan a wedding, a busy work schedule, and the constant routine of medicine fueled by little sleep, Jemma simply did not have time to cry.

 

She should have known she couldn’t bottle up the tears forever. And the dam broke at the most inconvenient of moments: while trying on the ugliest, orange, dress she had ever seen.

 

As she sat curled in the corner of the dressing room, Jemma felt fat, hot tears rolling down her face, her breathing erratic. Trying to maintain her silence, she covered a hand over her mouth and willed the tears to stop. So lost in her sorrow, Jemma completely missed the quiet knock on the door and the subsequent presence of another person. She continued to sob into her hands as a pair of warm, strong, and familiar set of arms wrapped around her.

 

As her tears and shallow breaths slowly began to evaporate, Jemma suddenly realized that she was no longer alone. Looking up slowly, she found herself gazing into the blue eyes that always gave her comfort. Only now, sitting in a small dressing room in a hideous dress with him in his lovely tux, did she come to find those wonderful eyes the source of her intense pain and sadness. Embarrassed by her actions and, what she assumed, terrible appearance, Jemma turned away from Fitz, wiping away the misery of the situation.

 

“Hey,” Fitz whispered, “what’s the matter?”

 

With one final broken breath, Jemma mumbled back a meek “Nothing.” Her shoulders tense, knowing that, if even she didn’t believe the word coming out of her mouth, Fitz would definitely sense the lie.

 

“Jemma,” he tittered. “Come on, now. What’s the matter?” She wanted to tell him, just like so many times before, truly she did. But, one look at his outfit and the way the bowtie sat just crookedly, and the curls on his head bounced in just the right way, Jemma knew she couldn’t tell him. His big moment was coming in just a few short months, so who was Jemma to spoil such a momentous occasion? It wasn’t fair to her, but she knew deep down in her gut that while she hated hiding everything from him, it was all for the better. If she could just muster through these next couple of months, she’d be able to live long enough to see him live out his happiest day and she’d die peacefully, knowing that she hadn’t mucked that up for him.

 

“I--- I’m just a little tired with everything that’s been going on.” Not a lie, she thought. “Work and all the planning and the med…” she cut herself off, her secret nearly slipping out. It had always been so easy to tell Fitz things; it had been that way ever since they had first met. She mentally chastised herself for almost spilling the news, especially in such a flippant manner.

 

“What was that last part?” Fitz asked, his eyes boring into the side of her face, one that was adamantly turned towards the door.

 

“Ehm….Oh, Fitz!” She cried out. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she took in one last deep breath before rushing out the words, “I didn’t want to tell you this. But, but…” she steadied herself. “Cailie’s meddling parents have been driving me nuts!” Well, it was sort of true. The looks they gave her whenever Fitz would casually hug her or when he would smile at her were definitely driving her nuts, but not enough to warrant the term ‘meddling.’ “I just, I’m trying so hard to do everything they ask for, but I _swear_ they must hate me, or something! Nothing I do is good enough for them!” Lies. All lies. Sure, Cailie’s parents were a little demanding, but that was to be expected when your only child was soon to be married.

 

“Oh, oh, Jemma. I’m _so_ sorry! I didn’t even think about you and her parents. They have be quite obnoxious throughout this whole thing... must be where Cailie gets it from” he mumbled that last part. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? We could have complained about them together!” he boisterously chuckled. Turning to look at her, his cheeks held up high in a smile that encompassed his entire face, Jemma couldn’t help but smile back. Fitz always seemed to be able to do that. Completely calm her while simultaneously make her laugh. The two best friends sat in the tiny room, chuckling at their misfortunes.

 

“Hey,” Fitz wheezed out “d’ya think her parents would mind if I wore a kilt?” They both erupted into a fit of giggles, and it was in that moment that Jemma wished time could stop. She could happily live out the rest of her life in this tiny and stuffy room, even if it meant wearing the hideous orange dress.

 

\---

One month. 730 hours until Fitz was to be married and Jemma was to be living the last few days of her life. It really was like everything else they did in their life, completely in-tune with one another.

 

Jemma’s appointments had become more and more frequent, her doctors warning her that too much stress could cause serious consequences. _Like what,_ she thought bitterly, _death?_ Ignoring their irritating warnings, Jemma dutifully continued taking her medications and diligently completed all tasks that were required of the best (wo)man, as Hunter had so eloquently dubbed her.

 

She helped Fitz make sure his tux fit him properly, that the food was to Fitz’s taste, the limo ready, and that his list of guests were accounted for. She walked into work every morning, a smile plastering her face as she merrily greeted the kind guard working the front desk. She went out to lunch with Cailie, assured her that everything would go according to plan, arranged the pre-wedding parties, and made sure that everything was right on track. Jemma excelled at preparation.

 

But every day she ignored the pain in her chest, never quite certain if it was from the ever-looming illness or her heart shattering piece by piece. At night she would find herself staring up at her ceiling, her hand covering her chest, making sure that her heart continued to pump in the steady way that it was supposed to. Some nights, Jemma never slept. Instead, she would find herself sitting at her desk, writing a series of letters that would never be seen by anyone but herself.

 

_Fitz,_

 

_Oh, Fitz. I wish I could tell you everything. I wish I didn’t have to keep this to myself. I wish you weren’t marrying Cailie. I know, it’s so selfish and childish of me, but I can’t help it! I hate how perfect you two are for one another. I hate how pretty she looks in that dress. I hate that she gets to go home with you at night and I hate that she’ll wake up in the morning with your arms wrapped around her. I hate that she isn’t jealous of our friendship, that would make things so much easier._

 

_Mostly, I hate that you love her and not me._

 

_…_

 

_Fitz,_

 

_I wish I could tell you that I was dying. Maybe then you’d leave her and be with me. But then again, maybe you’d just be with me out of pity? People in movies only choose the dying people out of pity, right? I don’t want you to choose me out of pity. Or, maybe I do._

 

_At least then I’d get to call you mine._

 

_…_

 

_Fitz,_

 

_People always say that we could reach each other’s mind. Sometimes I wish this were true, just so that you could understand just how much you mean to me. At times, I find that my feelings for you are so strong, so overpowering, I simply don’t know what to do with it all. I’m sure you’d know what to do. You, being so incredibly smart…and handsome. Fitz, I wish you could help me sort out the mess in my head and the pain in my heart._

 

_…_

 

_Fitz,_

 

_I hate you for making me feel this way. I hate you for not being here for me. I hate you for not noticing that I’m sick: that I’m dying. I hate you so much that sometimes death seems almost welcoming. I hate that my best friend, the person I love more than anyone or anything, isn’t by my side when I wake up in the mornings with pain that is so unbelievably horrible. I hate that once I’m gone, you’ll get to live out a life without me and that you will go on smiling. I hate that there’s a possibility that you’ll forget me and that I’ll have no one else in the world thinking of me._

 

_Mostly, I hate myself because I’m too much of a coward to tell you that I am so incredibly and endlessly in love with you._

 

_…_

 

_Fitz,_

 

_I am so tired. So astonishingly tired. My body hurts, and I know it’s not just from the sickness._

 

_…_

 

_Fitz,_

 

_I’m not even gone yet, and you’re not even married, but I miss you. I miss your warm smile, the way your arms feel around me when we hug. I miss the way you always make me laugh, even when we’re not supposed to. Did you know, Fitz, that from the first moment I met you, something inside of me told me that you would be my best friend? Maybe it was your eyes, oh God, your eyes! I could stare into them for days…the ocean has nothing on them._

_I’m going to miss your eyes, the way they sparkle when you come up with something completely brilliant (which is quite often), or they way the fire lights up from within them when you’re passionate about something! I’m going to miss getting to see what shade of blue they’ll be from one day to another. I hope Cailie loves them just as much as I do. Although, how could she not?_

 

_…_

 

_Fitz,_

 

 _I hope that one day when you have children, you share with them our love for science. I hope you teach them all the things we discussed with Dr. Weaver and everything else we learned since that moment. I hope that you get to discover new things with them and that they never stop asking questions and searching for answers. I hope that you and Cailie_ _never grow tired of one another. You, both of you, deserve all the happiness in the world. I hope that the two of you never stop reaching for each other and that the spark that electrifies between the two of you never fades. I want you to be happy Fitz, that’s all I’ve ever wanted._

 

_…_

 

_Tomorrow you are getting married, Fitz. The doctor told me today that he doesn’t know how much longer my heart will make it. He says that, at best, I have another month. That’s one month longer than they had originally predicted, so, that’s good news! I’m so happy that I get to see you tomorrow. It might kill me, but at least you’ll be happy. If you are happy, then I can die happy._

 

_I have always loved you, Fitz, not even death can change that._

 

_Always yours,_

 

_Jemma_

 

That night, for reasons unbeknownst to her, Jemma decided to fold the letters and neatly tucked them into an ivory colored envelope, shoving it into her purse, and leaving it to be dealt with in the morning.

 

\---

From the moment she woke up, Jemma could tell that the day was going to be a crazy day. Her best friend in the entire world was getting married, and she wasn’t going to be the one wearing the white dress. Mentally preparing herself for the onslaught of emotions that were sure to be coming her way, Jemma made two cups of tea and waited for the frantic knock that was expected any minute. When the knock came, she felt her heart lurch, suddenly nervous at seeing Fitz. Jemma mentally chastised herself, it wasn’t like it was bad luck for Fitz to see her, _she_ wasn’t the bride, after all. Quickly rushing to open the door, she greeted Fitz with one of the cups of tea and a brilliant smile.

 

“Hi!” she squeaked out at him. “Come in, come in! I have everything laid out for you, I’ll make breakfast in just a bit, and then we need to get going. We need to stop by the shop to pick up Cailie’s gift and then we need to head over to the church by 11, otherwise her parents will kill me. Oh, and good morning and congratulations!” Jemma rushed out in one long sentence, her eyebrows peaking with each word. She looked up, not surprised to see Fitz’s eyes filled with nerves and a touch of panic. So typical, she thought.

 

“Uh, thanks?” He sputtered out. She raised one eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. She simply opened the door further and welcomed him into her apartment.

 

“So different” she heard Fitz mumble. Of course he had been over to her place plenty of times before, it was once their apartment, after all. Nothing seemed so different to Jemma, besides the absence of his obscene about of notebooks, sketchpads, and other various supplies.

 

“What’s that?” she questioned.

 

“Oh, it’s just, the apartment looks so different. I guess everything does, in a way. It’s the last day I’ll be seeing things from a non-married perspective. Sort of odd, isn’t it?” he mused.

 

“Well,” Jemma sighed, “I wouldn’t know, seeing as _I’m_ not the one getting married today.” She clucked, a smiled teasing at the corner of her mouth.

 

He was quiet for a moment. “Ah, right. Sorry bout that,” Fitz mumbled out.

 

“Oh, Fitz! You have nothing to be sorry about, it’s your wedding day for goodness sake!” Fitz looked up at her, his big blue eyes once again causing her heart to lurch in the familiar fashion. “Come one now,” she cleared her throat and forced herself to look away, “we’ve got lots to do today and I’m sure you’re starving.” As if on cue, Fitz’s stomach made a loud grumbling noise and the two best friends chuckled. They would get through the day, as long as they had each other.

 

Once Fitz had been fed and he had hopped into the shower, Jemma pulled out a list from her purse, the envelope from the previous night catching her eye. She stuffed the letter further down into her purse: out of sight, out of mind.

 

“Honestly, Fitz, you take longer to shower than me! Come on, we have to get going!” Holding the plastic covered tux in one hand, the list in the other, Jemma yanked open the door and motioned for Fitz to get a move on.

 

The duo spent the morning rushing around from place to place (Fitz needed to stop for food more than once, _wedding day nerves_ he stated) before finally reaching their last destination. Pulling into a front spot, Jemma pulled the key from their slot and the two best friends sat in silence. Jemma, after what seemed like an eternity, turned to Fitz and let out a shaky breath. “Well…” she let her words linger out.

 

“So…” Fitz managed. Jemma smiled at him, her kindness instantly and visibly easing the tension from his shoulders.

 

“Are you ready?” She asked him quietly. The two of them stared at one another, their minds connecting in a silent conversation.

 

 _No._ Fitz thought. _I’m so bloody nervous._

 

 _Oh, Fitz. It’ll all be okay. I’m sure Cailie_ _will be beautiful. The moment she walks through the doors, nothing else will matter!_

 

_Yeah, doesn’t mean I won’t be nervous._

 

_You’ll be fine, Fitz. I have complete confidence in you._

 

_Yeah, you’re right, as usual. I’m so glad you’re my best friend._

 

_Me too, Fitz._

 

With two small smiles adorning their faces, Jemma and Fitz hugged each other, quite possibly one of their last times. Once the wedding was over, Fitz and Cailie would be off on their honeymoon for the next month. Perfect, Jemma had thought. He won’t have to be there during her last few days. He’d be blissfully unaware, and that was all Jemma could hope for.

 

The two began to part, and before she could lose her confidence, Jemma reached into her purse and pulled out the letter.

 

Jemma shouldn’t be doing this. It was mean, horrible, and downright selfish. She was the kind one of the group, the level-headed, bright, and undeniably sweet one. Six months ago she would have never even considered doing something like this, never thought she would even be in this situation. But then again, six months ago, Jemma didn’t know that her lifespan had been whittled down to just a few months.

 

Jemma tried to convince herself that it was the bad combination of her medication mucking up her actions, the stress of having to help put together the big event, and the absolute utter chaos of doing all of this _while_ managing to hide two of her biggest secrets; but Jemma knew better. Jemma had known since the very first time she laid eyes on his curly mop of hair and those bright, piercing blue eyes.

 

“Don’t, don’t read it until after the honeymoon.”

 

There, she thought. That’s not as horrible. She’s be long gone by the time he read the letter. He’d be sad at first, but he’d eventually get over it and then he could be happy. It was a happy medium for Jemma, the thought making her smile. “I mean it, Fitz. Don’t read it until after the honeymoon! Got it?” she asked, a sad smile lighting up her face.

 

“What! Me, breaking the rules? Jemma, I’m shocked that you’d think so little of me,” Fitz teased. “I pinky promise,” he said, pulling out his hand, the little finger sticking out.

 

“Pinky promise,” Jemma repeated, their two fingers crashing, her heart leaping out like it always did whenever their skin connected. Their hold on one another lingered for just a second longer than necessary, before Jemma broke the trance and once more smiled at Fitz. “Okay, Mr. Groom,” Fitz’s face squirmed at the term “let’s move! We’ve got a wedding to get to!”

 

\---

Though technically Jemma was the (wo)man of honor, Cailie had insisted that Jemma be a bridesmaid the day of the wedding, something about numbers. Hence the reason she found herself draped in the ugly orange dress, readying herself to walk down the aisle with one of Cailie’s cousins by her side.

 

She had dreaded this moment from the very instant Fitz had told her he that Cailie had said yes. Her entire body felt jittery, her heart pounding at an incredibly fast rate. In the next few minutes, Jemma would see her best friend say _I do_ , only instead of Jemma being the one the words were being declared to, another woman would be on the receiving end. Jemma felt like she was going to faint, the anxiety of the situation simultaneously exciting her knowing that Fitz would get to live a happy life, and equally (if not more) crushing her. Jemma knew with every fiber in her being that she loved Fitz, and because of this knowledge, she needed to let him go. She needed him happy, something she would no longer be able to help him with.

 

The large wooden door pushed open with a quiet _whoosh_ and Jemma looked up into in her favorite blue eyes. For just a moment, Jemma allowed herself to believe in the fantasy that she was the one wearing the white dress and that that goofy and awed look on Fitz’s face was for her. Her heart beat out frantically, yearning for something that wasn’t hers.

 

As she walked down the aisle, Jemma’s vision began to blur, her skin glistened in a sheen layer of sweat. As usual, she threw aside the nagging feeling in her stomach and focused on the task at hand. Her legs suddenly began to slow down, each step feeling like she was dragging a slab of concrete. She couldn’t concentrate, her breath shallow, her heart hurting as the room spun. The last thing she noticed was Fitz, _oh Fitz_ , running towards her and screaming her name. Maybe, she thought, death wouldn’t be so bad.

 

\---

The sound was annoying. The constant beeping irritated her to no end and Jemma couldn’t help but yank her eyes open, if only to look for someone and tell them to shut off the incessant noise. When she did, she noticed a room that was completely unfamiliar to her. Slowly it dawned on her that she was definitely _not_ dead, but rather in a bright, much too bright, hospital room, the chatter and general bustle of a busy hospital building seeping its way into her room. For a moment, she panicked. _Oh no,_ she thought. _I’ve missed the wedding._ _Fitz is probably gone by now and I didn’t even get to say goo_ \---she was cut off mid-thought by a set of watery blue eyes.

 

“Fitz?” she croaked out. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be happy and on his honeymoon! He was most definitely not supposed to be here in this dank room, looking like a complete mess, his t-shirt rumbled and his jeans creased with deep wrinkles. Wait, t-shirt? Jeans? That last she could remember Fitz had been standing at the altar in a tux that fit him so nicely.

 

“Jemma!” Fitz cried out, the tears that had rimmed his blue eyes splashed down over his cheeks and onto her face. “Oh, thank God, Jemma…” he cried out again. “Oh, thank God!” he whispered, tucking his face into her lap.

 

Jemma didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t at all like how she had planned it, and now, she didn’t know what to do. The tears that she had been holding back since her last cry finally spilled out of her, sobs wracking her entire body as she bent over and cradled Fitz’s head into her arms. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. None of this! All the plans she had worked so hard on, all of the careful checks and double checks, all of her preparation was not supposed to end like _this_.  She cried for herself, she cried for the immanent death that was sure to be coming, and she cried for Fitz, the friend she knew she would be losing. This is why she hadn’t wanted to tell him, because, if she was being honest with herself, she knew she wasn’t strong enough to say goodbye to her best friend. The two best friends continued to sob into one another, their tears blending into a stream of sorrow and regret. Eventually the flow subsided, and Jemma lifted her face, her breath still shaky. “Fitz,” she quietly called out,  “what are you doing here?”

 

“What do you mean, _what am I doing here_?” Fitz chided. “You collapsed at my wedding!” she avoided his eyes, feeling guilty. “And then I find out that you’re dying!” he all but shouted. “Jemma, you’re my best friend in the world!” he cried out.   

 

“Yeah, well, you’re more than that to me” Jemma mumbled.

 

“Yes, I know _that_ Jemma,” Fitz snapped back at her. “First I have to find out from a stranger that you’re _dying_ ,” he sneered out, “and you have been for six months. And then I read a letter, a letter written by _you_ ” he jabs a finger at her “confessing that you love me!?” he yells incredulously. “You’d think that my best friend, one who’s in love with me no less, would at least tell me when she’s sick and dying!” He screams, his eyes once again filling with fresh tears.

 

Jemma can’t look at them. She knows that she’s to blame for everything; she knows that he has every right to be angry with her. Still, she can’t help the hurt that courses through her with each of his accusations. Her own eyes fill with tears, her weakness once again pouring out of her.   

 

“I know, I know, I know!” She cries out, mournfully, “It’s all my fault and I hate myself for everything. I was being so stupid and…and I just can’t wait for this mess to be all over with. I can’t wait to be out of your life so that you can finally be happy again.” She covers her face as tears pour down her red cheeks. Suddenly, her hands are being pulled away from her face and she’s forced to look into Fitz’s stern eyes.

 

“Don’t you _ever_ say that, Jemma! I may be hurt and angry, but don’t you for one second think I want to live in a world that doesn’t have you in it! Jemma, I’m- I’m just not strong enough to do that! I can’t even begin to think like that, and you shouldn’t either! I—I love you, Jemma.” he declares, the two of them staring at one another, the lingering silence was deafening.   

 

“No!” Jemma whispered. “NO! You don’t love me. You’re in love with Cailie and you’re supposed to get married and have kids and live out a long and happy life. You can’t love me because it’s too much. It’s too much, Fitz, and I’ll be gone soon and I can’t do that to you!”

 

“It’s too late,” Fitz says, his hand reaching out to cradle the side of her face, “Its much too late, Jemma. From the moment you rushed into that classroom, sweaty and with the tea stain on your shirt, I knew I was in love with you. I just thought you wanted to be friends, only friends, so I kept my distance. You’ve always been it for me Jemma, and I won’t waste any more time telling you, or anyone else, otherwise,” he says, a small smile breaking out over his face.

 

“But what about Cailie? The last thing I remember was you standing at an altar waiting to marry her, Fitz! What about Cailie?” she nearly whispers, tears still flowing down her cheeks.

 

With a shuddering breath and a nervous swipe through his curly mop of hair, he explained. “She helped me call an ambulance. When it came around and you were being loaded up onto the gurney, I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to do. She, uh, she pulled me aside and told me to go to you. Be with you. She told me that she had tried to ignore us, tried to just brush it off as the years of knowing one another, but she knew. She knew that I loved you and that there was no way I was ever going to be able to love her as much as I love you. She canceled the wedding. Her and her family left to go home yesterday.”

 

Jemma stared up at Fitz in shock. He loved her. He actually loved _her_ , even though she was bossy and incredibly picky and dying, _dying_ , he still loved her. Her heart, her weak and sickly heart, skipped a beat, her face wincing with pain. He loved her, but she was still dying. A fresh wave of grief, pity, and anger swept over her. She looked away, unable to face him.

 

“Jemma,” he uttered, “say something.”

 

“Oh, Fitz” was all she was able to muddle out. “But I’m dying,” she whispered, her face cracking as she saw his fall. The two of them stared at one another for what was no more than a second but felt like an eternity before Fitz spoke out.

 

“Not anymore, Jemma.” With a confused look on her face, Jemma watched as Fitz turned around and pulled out a small vial filled with a murky substance.

 

“I may be no medical doctor, but I’ve done my fair share of biological research,” he said playfully, throwing Jemma a knowing look. “It’s been my special project, Jems.”

 

Fitz had been working on a cure for Jemma’s condition ever since her father had passed away from the very same illness a year after Fitz met her. Fitz knew that there was a possibility that Jemma would one day fall ill to the same condition, and he knew that he needed to find a cure for it. Years of trials and failures, Fitz had only found within the last month a highly probable cure. It hadn’t been approved yet, but Fitz, with her mother’s blessing, had snuck the substance into Jemma’s system in hopes that it would work on her. Against all odds, Jemma’s heart began to show signs of healing, and eventually her heart began to beat in a regular pattern.  

 

For once, in what had seemed like a lifetime, Jemma looked into Fitz’s eyes and felt her heart beat so loudly, so happily, she thought the whole world might hear it. She smiled at him, a Sunshine Smile, and leaned forward to press her lips lightly against his.

 

“Oh, Fitz” she whispered, “I love you.”

 

\---

 

It had been a long journey to get to this moment. Her recovery had taken much longer than she had hoped for, but Fitz never left her side. Sometimes she got angry with him for hovering around all the time, and sometimes he yelled at her for being so stubborn. For a long time, she hated that they couldn’t be like a normal couple, no sex or adventurous dates, as her heart still wasn’t strong enough. He hated it when she was so hard on herself and was constantly telling her that they’d get there eventually. Nevertheless, the two best friends stood by each other and never lost faith.

 

Fitz wasn’t nervous, and neither was Jemma. Anxious? Yes. Nervous? No. Jemma still remembers the first day she met him, the first time that she was ever late in her life. She remembers crying over a silly email and a kind boy comforting her. She remembers those eyes, oh those blue eyes. It all seems so long ago now.

 

Her mother offered Jemma the small pendant her father had given to her the day they had gotten married, “Something borrowed,” she whispered happily to her daughter. And when the doors opened and Jemma’s eyes rose to meet Fitz’s, Jemma thought to herself, _something blue._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! After spending days doing some fun Fitz gifs for the 12 Days of Fitz-Mas over on Tumblr, I wanted to do something with a Jemma focus, and then I found myself watching My Best Friend's Wedding, and this sort of happened because of all of that! Huge thanks to [honeylavendertea,](http://honeylavendertea.tumblr.com/) Emily, for being an awesome beta who checks over everything for me and helps me to find the right words when I can't think of any good ones! P.S. Sorry if you're name is Caillic, I couldn't pass up the chance for a subtle reference to my other fave boy, Hunter!


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